Billy Darley: New Blood
by undeadstoryteller
Summary: Complete! Death Sentence/Billy Darley backstory fic. Billy would stop at nothing to rule his corner of the mean streets. Connected to BD 1shots 1 and 2. Set 7-8 yrs before events in the movie. T for heavy language and violence.
1. Seven to One

Mickey Coyle was king, and Billy intended to be him someday.

No, better than him.

It was a family business, and Mickey was a part of the family - the oldest child, and only son, of his father's sister. His father loved Mickey more than his own kids. He could do no wrong.

It should be _him_.

But Billy was young yet. At 21, still too young. You wait till you're 25, Mickey said, then we'll talk. He tossed him milk-and-cookies jobs, the shit the organization members wouldn't touch, and took most of the profits. With not enough earning potential, Billy and Bodie took to making their own way, knocking over liquor stores and gas stations. It was usually simple: these mom-and-pop business owners didn't want a fight. Usually.

When Billy had pointed his pistol at that guy at the liquor store, the last thing he expected was for him to pull out one of his own. Who did he think he was?

"C'mon, let's get outta here," Bodie said, backing away.

Billy looked at Bodie. He looked at the guy who had the audacity to pull a gun on him. Then he shot him.

He jumped on the counter and opened the register. The guy was still alive, writhing around on the floor. He shot him again, and yanked the bills out of the register.

"Fucker," he said, before bolting out.

Bodie was already running. Billy ran after him, nearly catching up. It was like he'd had a burst of superhuman energy.

--

Billy dropped the newspaper in front of Mickey. Local business owner, 42, killed in holdup. No suspects.

"That was me," Billy said.

Mickey pushed the paper away. "Bullshit it was," he said.

"Bodie was with me."

"Oh," Mickey said, "your little toadie is your witness? I'm gonna believe him?"

"I won't get caught, either," Billy said.

"You didn't kill no liquor store guy," Mickey said. He threw back a shot. "You're a little shit who don't know when to quit. You didn't kill your girl -"

"I never said I did."

"Why don't you go back to your little playhouse, Billy? Go pitch pennies with Bodie, or whatever the fuck you do. I don't have time for you."

Billy pushed away from the bar. "This is bullshit," he said.

Mickey stood up and faced him. "You know, Billy, you're really starting to annoy me," he said. "You're like . . . a little mosquito that won't go away." He pulled out his blackjack and rolled it across the back of his hand. Mickey's boys were paying attention now. Billy could feel them closing in on him. "Get the fuck out of here, before I have to take your pretty face-"

"Fuck you, Mickey."

Mickey's eyes narrowed. Except for a snicker from Tommy, the bar went hush.

Mickey went for his nose first. The blade cut across it in a flash. Billy tried to fight back, but it was no use. Jamie held his arms tight behind him.

"That's how you're gonna do it?" Billy said, blood streaming from his face.

Mickey spit. He reached into Billy's pockets, and pulled out a blade. "A switchblade?" he laughed. He flipped it open and pretended to comb his nonexistent hair. "Just like Fonzie." His boys chuckled. He pulled Billy's gun from his jacket. "A Glock 17? Now, there's a thing of beauty." He jammed it against Billy's cheek, then tossed it over his shoulder at Mooney. He nodded at Jamie. "Take off his jacket."

Billy surged forward as he was freed from his jacket. They circled him, and he was unarmed.

Mickey laid his blade on the bar. He took off his jacket, and pulled two pistols from the waistband of his jeans, handing them to Jamie. He cocked his shoulders. "Fair fight," he said.

Billy scanned the scene. "Seven to one?"

"Step back!" Mickey barked at his boys. They did. He looked at Billy. "One to one."

Billy sniffed. He tasted the blood. There was a lot of it already. He couldn't actually take Mickey down, he knew that. But if he could hold his own in a fair fight, that was enough.

He didn't see the point in dancing around - he reared back and punched Mickey in the face. He was surprised when Mickey wobbled on his feet, even looked a little stunned. Billy took advantage of the moment and struck him again, in the jaw. This time, Mickey didn't reel.

Mickey was on him, his fists landing blows to his face, his ribs, his kidneys. Billy hit the floor on one knee, as far down as he was willing to go. As he started to stand up again, he felt a blow to the back of his head.

_Fuck._ He thought. _Seven to one._

Of course it was. Billy knew better than to believe it had ever been a fair fight.

Billy's vision blurred as all hell rained down on him. The sound was deafening.

Then it stopped.

He tried to pull himself up, but a pain jolted through his side, keeping him down. He looked up, or tried to. His vision had blacked out.

Footsteps approached him on the floor. Footsteps he knew well.

He felt himself lifted up by his bloody shirt.

"You've all had your fun, now."

The pain was agonizing.

"He was asking for it, Bones," Tommy said.

"Oh," said Bones, holding Billy up with his shoulder, "there is no fucking doubt in my mind he was asking for it."

Bones dragged Billy out to his car and shoved him in the back seat. Billy's vision was coming back. He couldn't tell if he was coughing up blood or spitting blood from his open lip.

"Little shit," Bones said, turning to him, as he backed out of the lot. "Now I get to waste my whole night cleaning you up."

Billy coughed. "I didn't ask you to come."

"Yeah, well, I didn't ask to be Father of the goddamned Year," Bones said. "But here we are."


	2. Clash

"I'm comin' with you."

Billy sighed and looked at Bodie "No, you're not."

"After what happened last time?"

"Forget it," Billy said. "Sometimes, I gotta do things myself."

Billy was still beaten and bruised from getting jumped by Mickey's gang at the Four Roses a few days before. He refused to lie around like an injured person, even with a slashed face, a few broken ribs and a broken arm. Probably a concussion, too. It would heal itself. As he'd tended to Billy's wounds, Bones had listed every bone he had broken in forty years, from his pinky to his skull, and he'd never spent a goddamned day in the hospital. Hospitals were for having babies, so unless you were a woman or coming out of one, a bottle of whiskey, some clean rags, and maybe a needle and thread would do. He'd heard it a thousand times.

Billy popped another Vicodin. Good shit.

"At least let me drive your whacked-out ass over there," Bodie said. He had no intention of leaving Billy alone with Mickey and his boys again. There was nothing he could have done if he'd been there the other night, it was true, but he was overwhelmed with guilt anyway.

"I have to do this like a man," Billy said.

"Bullshit," Bodie said. "Even if he takes you in, we make more money on our own than we would working for him, even if - "

"That's not the _point_," Billy said, facing him. "I don't give a fuck about money. I want . . . respect." He took a swig of whiskey. "See, that's your problem, Bodie, you don't think about things like that. That's why you'll never be like me."

"Fuck if I want to be like you," Bodie laughed.

"No," Billy said, putting on his jacket. "But you need me, Bodie." He tossed the car keys at him. "You need me."

Bodie palmed the keys and shook his head.

_Not half as much as you need me._

--

Bodie waited in the car. He had no choice, really. Billy had been invited by Mickey to talk, whatever that meant. Bodie hadn't.

Billy made his way down the corridor. The meth lab stunk like high hell, but Billy liked it.

_Someday_, he thought, _this will be mine_.

He stopped at the door. He'd expected someone to be waiting for him outside, but he'd just walked in. He was sorry he hadn't thought to do that before.

He could hear them talking. Mickey and Jamie.

"I'll just tell him he talked you down," Mickey said. "What he don't know won't hurt 'im."

_Interesting_.

Billy wasn't sure what to do. Knock? Wait?

He decided to wait.

Jamie came out a few minutes later.

"Billy," he said. "You're early."

Billy shrugged.

"I was just going out to wait for you."

"Well, I'm here," Billy said.

"Yeah," Jamie said. "Well, Mickey wants to talk to you."

Billy nodded. "I know it."

Jamie leaned into the room. "He's here," he called.

"Send him in," Mickey said.

Jamie turned, and motioned for Billy to go in. "Have fun," he said.

"Yeah," Billy said.

Mickey sat at a stainless steel table strewn with rucksacks. His face was swollen and bruised. Billy couldn't help letting a little smile escape. At least he'd managed to mess him up some.

"Billy," Mickey said, raising his arms. "My favorite cousin."

"What's goin' on, Mickey?" Billy said, sitting down.

"You're a pretty tough kid, Billy," Mickey said.

Billy rolled his eyes lightly.

"No, you can take a beating. I have to say, I thought that might have been it for you."

"I'm fine," Billy said.

"Maybe not so pretty," Mickey said, smiling. His smile faded. "You got lucky. Daddy might not be there next time."

"I know it."

Mickey looked into one of the sacks, and pushed it aside. He grabbed another, glanced into it, and tossed it at Billy.

Billy caught it. In it were tiny zip bags of white crystals. Meth.

"I want you to do 88th Street for me," Mickey said. "I been short since Russell got put away last week."

Billy nodded. "OK."

"You sell all of it, and we'll talk again."

Billy put the sack under his arm. "What about Bodie?"

"Bodie's out," Mickey said.

Billy paused. "Bodie comes with me."

"This ain't a negotiation," Mickey said. "You want to be in with me? You want to be one of us? Forget Bodie."

Billy shook his head. "No," he said. "Bodie's like my brother. He's more than a brother. You brought Jamie and Russell in with you . . . "

Mickey stood up. "Don't you think Bodie kind of . . . clashes with the carpeting, Billy?"

"No," Billy said, without hesitation.

"Yeah, well," Mickey said, "I seen your place. Your carpet has a lot of stains."

Billy bristled.

"No blacks," Mickey said. "This ain't the fucking UN. I'm giving you a choice. You come with me, or you stay in the schoolyards with Bodie."

Billy tightened his grip on his sack. "Fine," he said. He turned, then stopped. "It's interesting, though, Mickey . . . "

"What's 'interesting'?"

"Just that you've been ripping my father off, haven't you? Skimming off the top?"

"You don't know shit," Mickey said.

"I know enough."

"You know," Mickey said, "You need to be loyal if you run with me."

"Oh, I know that," Billy said. "But loyalty . . . this is kind of a heavy situation, Mickey. Do I stay loyal to you, or my own father?" He smiled.

"You hate Bones," Mickey said. His stance had stiffened.

"I don't see what that has to do with anything." Somehow, Billy had gotten upper hand on Mickey, and he loved it. Mickey couldn't kill him. He talked a big game, but they wouldn't have killed him the other night, even if Bones hadn't stepped in. Mickey would have been done if they had. "I wonder what Bones would do to you?"

"Bones would never believe you over me," Mickey said. "Never."

"Well, they're your cards," Billy said. "You can gamble any way you want."

Mickey swallowed hard. Billy raised his eyebrows and grinned.

"You little shit," Mickey said.


	3. Inconspicuous

Tommy was waiting for Billy and Bodie, leaning up against his old Cutlass. As they walked up, Billy laughed.

"Why do you drive this piece of shit?" Billy asked.

Tommy shot him a look. "It's inconspicuous. Mickey likes inconspicuous."

"Oh, inconspicuous," Billy laughed. "That's got to be the dumbest thing I've ever heard. Driving a piece of shit to be 'inconspicuous.'"

"Just get in the fucking car," Tommy said.

Billy got into the front, and Bodie slid into the back. It took Tommy two tries to start the car.

"Wherever we're going," Billy said, "I hope we make it."

"Shut up," Tommy said. "This is business." He wasn't happy about this job.

"Where we goin'?" Bodie asked.

"Well," Tommy said, turning to them, "Mickey says if you really want in -"

"Wait," Billy said, "if we _want_ in? Mickey and me already went over this."

"Mickey wants you to prove yourselves."

Billy sat back. "You tell Mickey - "

"You think I just walked in, Billy?" Tommy asked. "I was laid up for two weeks."

"Yeah, and you already jumped me."

"That's not enough this time, Billy," Tommy said.

"Fuck," Bodie moaned from the back seat.

"Mickey says, that's not enough," Tommy said. "Mickey says, if you want to bring in Bodie, you gotta both prove yourselves."

Billy sighed. "'Mickey says,'" he mocked. "That wasn't part of the deal." He paused. "I'll go tell my father -"

Tommy stopped the car. "Don't fuck this up, Billy," he said. "Squealing to Bones is a pussy move, and you know it."

Billy looked at Tommy, and didn't say anything.

"So," Bodie said, "What'd we have to do?"

Tommy hit the gas. "Well, Billy, you know how you killed that - " He paused. "How you _say_ you killed that liquor store guy?"

"He did kill him," Bodie said.

"Well, you're gonna do it again," Tommy said. "Both of you. And I'll watch."

Billy shifted. "No problem."

Bodie leaned forward. "What? No."

Billy turned to him. "Tommy's right," he said. "We gotta prove ourselves. I went to a lot of trouble to get Mickey to let you in."

"He ain't in yet," Tommy said. "And none of this, 'he pulled a gun on me' shit. We'll find somebody... two people, who are unarmed."

"Y'all are psycho," Bodie said. "Let me out."

"Bodie," Billy said firmly. "We can do this."

Bodie shook his head. "You want to kill someone for no reason, go ahead, but - "

"It's not for 'no reason,'" Billy said. He leaned toward Bodie. "I vouched for you."

Bodie looked away.

"So," Billy said to Tommy, "how are we gonna pick 'em?"

Tommy glanced at him from the corners of his eyes. Billy was actually enjoying this. "I don't know," Tommy said. "We'll find some random guys."

"You know what they do in California?" Billy said, his excitement building. "They shut off their headlights - " he reached over and switched them off, "and the first guy to flash their lights at you -"

As if on cue, a passing car flashed its lights.

"See? That guy," Billy said. "That guy's dead. Turn around and follow him."

"That's just an urban legend, Billy," Tommy said. "Nobody fucking does that in California."

"No, they do."

Tommy sighed. "My cousin is TRS in Oakland, and they don't fucking do that."

"You don't have no TRS cousin in Oakland," Billy said. "If you had one, why would you be running in this shithole?"

"Maybe some of us don't need our whole fucking family to get in," Tommy said.

Billy crossed his arms and sat back.

"Besides," Tommy said, "Oakland's a bigger shithole than here. If you don't think Oakland's a shithole, you've never been to Oakland."

"At least it's warm all the time."

"That's LA, dumbass . . ."

"Will you both _shut up_?" Bodie said. Surprisingly, they did. "Let's just do this."

Another car flashed its lights.

Tommy rolled his eyes. Then he stepped on the gas, and turned to follow it.


	4. Work To Do

Billy looked at the diamond ring in his palm. The stone was big, maybe two karats. There had been no wedding bands. They had been engaged, he guessed. Probably planning a fancy wedding at one of those country clubs. Their families were getting ready for their future, and now they were dead. He could still hear her voice:

"_What's happening, David?"_

David hadn't cowered. Billy kind of respected him for that.

"_You can do whatever you want to me, but please just let her go."_

David was ready to die for that woman. It had startled him. He knew that if anyone had tried to hurt one of his, he'd kill them. No question. But to offer yourself up instead? The guy had balls, but not much sense. It made him realize that the woman had to die first.

He held the gun to her head, and pulled the trigger as they screamed. She went silent, and fell to the floor. He looked at Bodie.

"Your turn."

He'd done Bodie a favor. David's agony would make it easier for him. Bodie held up his pistol, and executed him point-blank.

For a few silent moments they stood there, Billy, Bodie, and Tommy, but only Billy moved. He'd noticed the flash of jewelry on the woman's hand, and decided what the hell.

Looking at it now, it just pissed him off. What kind of person can give their woman something like this _honestly_? It was insane. It was unfair.

He pelted it across the room.

Bodie watched the ring bounce around on the floor beneath the TV stand.

"You know that thing is probably worth about five Gs?"

Billy stood up. "Yeah?" He said. "Well, Merry Christmas."

"I don't fuckin' want it," Bodie said. "I can't even sell it."

Billy lit a cigarette. "Probably not."

"Definitely not, Billy," Bodie said. "That thing is like... evidence. You should have left it."

"Maybe," Billy said. He put on his jacket. "I'm gonna go see if I can find Crystal. C'mon. I'll split the hour with you."

"We have work to do, Billy," Bodie said. "What, you think Mickey is so impressed he don't expect profits from us?"

"I don't answer to Mickey," Billy said.

"Yes, you do," Bodie said. "All of this was your idea. We were fine on our own -"

"We're not kids anymore, Bodie."

"We could have started something of our own. We know enough guys..."

"And how," Billy said, "would we make our way up? You can't take down someone like Mickey from the outside. You have to be on the inside. You know that. Bones, you know, he's not gonna hand me anything as long as Mickey is around."

"I don't give a shit about taking down Mickey."

"Well, be thankful to God I do, because you'd be nothing otherwise."

Bodie shook his head, and stared at the TV.

"And stop watching the goddamned news," Billy said, going over and switching off the set. "They're not going to catch us."

"Because you say so?"

"Because I say so." Billy counted his money. "If you don't want to come with, you can go do 88th street yourself."

Bodie glared at him.

"We do have work to do," Billy said.


	5. Shots in the Night

Billy sat down on the edge of the bed, pulling his shirt over his head. Now he felt like he could face a long night of facing those fiends. The walking dead, begging for a fix. He lit a cigarette, and turned to Crystal. She was already busy working on her Sudoku puzzle. She always kept a stack of those dollar game booklets on the night stand. Kept her sane, she said. That and crank.

He stood, counting out the bills, and held them out to her.

"What are you doing?" She asked, looking up at him.

"What does it look like I'm doing?"

She closed the book. "You don't have to pay me any more, Billy. You're one of Mickey's boys now."

Billy looked at the bills. "None of them guys pay?"

She shook her head. "For protection, you know."

Billy had figured Mickey didn't pay. He knew about freebies, something he never really wanted to get into. The one time a girl he'd hired had refused his money, she had taken his compliance in the wrong way. Paying for it seemed cleaner.

He laid the cash on top of her books. "You'll never make a living that way."

"That's nice of you, baby," she said, her eyes already glued on her puzzle again.

--

Billy was on 79th Street, taking his sweet time, when he heard the shots. He froze, a chill running up his spine.

_Bodie._

His pace quickened. Why had he told him to do 88th Street by himself? He tried not to panic - shots rang out around here every five minutes, but his mind reeled with images of Bodie on the ground, blood rushing out if him, like David, like that guy in the liquor store. Like Vanessa. He started to run.

"Billy!"

He halted and turned. It was Marceno, and old friend, a biker he shot stick with from time to time.

"Billy'll do it," Marceno said to someone just inside the clubhouse door. He approached him and put his hand on his shoulder. "We need a fourth in our poker game tonight," he said. "Ronnie had something with his kid - "

"I can't do it, Marceno," Billy said, nearly out of breath.

"Oh, I'll cover you," Marceno said. "Don't worry about it."

Ordinarily, Billy would have jumped at the chance to play poker with those guys. They don't let just anyone in their clubhouse, and Billy had never been invited in before. It was a real honor, even if he'd just been chosen because he happened to be walking by when they needed a fourth.

"I got work to do," Billy said.

"Work?" Marceno laughed. "Oh right, you're under Mickey now. Bunch of scumbags, they are, no offense. I'll deal with Mickey, man, come on."

"It's not Mickey, it's not Mickey," Billy said. "I just, you know, can't leave Bodie hanging on 88th..."

"Bodie's running with Mickey too? Heh. That's a sight I'd like to see."

"Yeah," Billy said, heading up the street away from him.

"Bring Bodie back with you," Marceno called. "We cool. We'll deal with Mickey!"

Marceno kept talking at him as he ran up the street until he couldn't make out the words.

By the time he reached 88th street, Billy was spent. There was no one there. He looked around, his heart racing. _Where the fuck is he?_

"Billy-"

Billy turned, startled by Bodie, standing there looking pissed.

"Jesus, Bodie!" Billy couldn't remember ever feeling so relieved. "Don't fucking do that!"

"Where the hell-"

"Don't fucking do that again!" He grabbed Bodie by the collar and pushed him back, hard.

Bodie landed on the asphalt. "What the _fuck_?" he said, looking up at him. "What'd I do?"

Billy shook his head and lit a cigarette.

Bodie got up. "I been out here waiting for you for three hours. By myself. I thought you blew it off." He threw the sack on the ground. "You _did_ blow it off. And you're gonna come here and give me shit?"

Billy picked up the sack and looked inside. They still had a long night ahead of them.

"Wanna go play some poker with the Low Riders?"

Bodie looked at him, confused. "What?"

"Fuck this," Billy said, slinging the sack over his shoulder. "I'll deal with Mickey."


	6. Turning Point

Mickey was pissed. He stood, facing Billy, his arms crossed. They were in Mickey's "office," what he called the lab. Only an asshole would call a meth lab an office, Billy thought. Only assholes had offices. All the boys were there, greedily anticipating whatever what was about to come.

"It seems to me," Mickey said, "that you need to be reminded of who your superiors are, Billy."

Billy looked around. "I don't see Bones here," he said.

"That's funny," Mickey said flatly. "Let me explain to you - again - how this works, because you really seem to have a comprehension problem."

Billy smiled. "'Comprehension problem.' That's good."

"You work for me," Mickey said. "You have no business with anyone else. No hanging out with fucking bikers. You listen to me. You do what I say, whatever I say, whenever I say it. If you don't, I will beat you down, each and every fucking time, until you learn to listen."

"At least until I beat _you_ down," Billy said.

The boys stirred, and looked at each other.

"You have delusions, Billy -"

"'Delusions!'" Billy mimicked, turning to the boys. He caught a couple of them letting a smile escape.

"You think because you're Bones's kid, you can come in here and not show me respect."

"It's got nothing to do with Bones," Billy said.

"It's got everything to do with Bones," Mickey said. "You're still a baby. I'm still king in here. You think you're tough, because you smoked a couple of people? You've never done time -"

"I done time."

"Oh, kiddie detention center? You think you can compare Bernillo to Sanders fucking Hill?"

"I never been to Sanders Hill because I'm too smart to get caught."

"You weren't smart enough to keep them from taking your kid," Mickey said.

Jamie shifted. "Mickey, man..."

"Oh, did I go too far, James? Was that over the fucking top?" Mickey moved in close to Billy. "You're worthless. You couldn't take care of your own flesh and blood. There's nothing lower than that." He looked at the boys. "He's not even trying to get her back."

Billy stared at Mickey until his vision blurred. He pulled out his virgin blackjack. What happened next, he wouldn't remember.

--

When Billy woke up, he felt a needle piercing into the flesh of his arm.

"Hold fucking still," Bones said. He was stitching him up.

"Here," Bodie said, shoving painkillers into his mouth. He looked around. "Where's that whiskey?"

"Here," Jamie said.

Billy would have expected Bodie to be there. And Bones, as much as he hated to admit it, was always there to put him back together. Jamie and Tommy, he didn't expect to see.

Jamie stood over him. "Why do you talk to him like that?" he asked. "You know he almost took your eye out."

"He's lucky that's all he took out," Tommy said.

"Hold fucking still!" Bones barked.

Billy concentrated on not feeling the pain. Finally, Bones got up.

"Almost good as fucking new," Bones said. He looked at them. "This is the last time. If you boys can't play nice, I'll find someone else to work for me."

"Talk to Mickey," Bodie said, handing Billy the bottle again.

"I'm talking to you," Bones said. "All of you. I'm not a fucking zookeeper." He pointed at Billy. "You do what you're told." He turned, and walked out.

Billy felt like he was going to die. "Fuuuuck," he moaned.

"The Vicodin'll start working soon," Bodie said.

"I need a smoke," Billy said. Bodie gave him one, and lit it for him. "Fuck." He took a long drag. "Please tell me I fucked him up."

"He's pretty bad," Jamie said.

Billy looked hopeful.

"Not that bad, though," Tommy said, banishing the thought.

"Oh," Billy said. "Was it one to one?"

Jamie nodded. "Yeah." He looked at Tommy. "Look, Billy, don't say anything, but, if it happens again, we got your back."

Billy tried to sit up. "Yeah?"

"Mickey's a..." Jamie searched for the right word. "He's been ripping us all off. Treating us all like shit. Nobody stood up to him."

Billy touched his bloody eye. "I wonder why," he said.

"If you want it," Tommy said, "we'll help you get it. But keep it down low."

Billy nodded. "Who's in?"

"Everyone, I think," Tommy said.

"Probably not Russell," Jamie said.

"Yeah, but we don't have to worry about Russell. At least not for two years."

"We don't need two years," Billy said. He took a drag from his cigarette. "We definitely don't need two fucking years."


	7. Insurrection

The water rushed into Billy's hands for a long time. A long time. The pain was constant, with an intensity that depended on how drugged up he was. Right now, just getting up, everything had worn off. He tried to find a place with no pain, but he couldn't find one. He splashed cold water on his face, and held his hands there. A growl escaped from his throat. He was pissed off at the pain that took everything over, trying to beat him.

Bodie stood at the bathroom door. "Take these," he said, handing him a cocktail of pills, to be washed down with alcohol. Billy didn't like being on drugs all the time. It wasn't how he was raised. Drugs were for weaker people. There are a lot of weak people in this world, Bones would tell him. Profit off of them, but don't be them. He needed the pills, though. It was impossible to get through the day without them. He swallowed them, and sat down on the toilet seat, leaning his head back, waiting for the pain to settle.

It didn't take long for his body to become bearable again. He got up, and sat down next to Bodie, flipping channels on the TV.

"How much do we have to do today?" Billy asked him.

"A lot," Bodie said. "Too much." He set the sack on the milk crate in front of him. "We gotta get off 88th Street. It's fucking MS-13 everywhere..."

"Oh," Billy said, shaking his head, "we don't even sell the same shit. Stop being such a pussy."

"Yeah, well, Heco told me those guys think we're falling apart. You think they won't try and take advantage of that?"

Billy leaned forward, and looked at the floor. "The fuck does Heco know?"

"Shit, Heco's a junkie, Heco knows a lot about MS-13. And they know Heco and you are boys." Bodie lit a cigarette. "Those fuckers think we're in the middle of a civil war, and they ain't half wrong."

"Fuck." This wasn't good. It was bad enough he was battling Mickey. If MS-13 sensed a weakness, they could be looking at a world of hurt. Bodie was right, they'd take advantage.

"And you know what else?" Bodie said. " Heco's thinking about going with them, you know?"

Billy stood up. "Oh, no, fuck that. What the _fuck_, Bodie?"

"You promised him you'd get him in."

"And I will. What the fuck? Why didn't he talk to me?"

Bodie shook his head, and looked straight ahead.

"Well, we need to get rid of Mickey," Billy said.

"We're gonna need new blood," Bodie said.

"We got blood," Billy said. "We got Heco's blood." He paused to think for a moment. "We'll ride out to the trailer parks after our shift and see Baggy."

Bodie nodded.

"This ain't gonna be a civil war," Billy said. "What we got is an insurrection."

"Insurrection," Bodie said, getting to his feet. "That's good."


	8. Baggy, Spink, and Dog

A couple dozen old trailers sat in what had once been a vacant lot where a low-rent high rise had burned to the ground thirty years before. The city was going to rebuild the housing project, but they never got around to it, leaving the space open and neglected. Over the years, people took advantage of the space of illegal rent-free lots. The city had let it slide. It was cheaper than maintaining housing there.

Baggy was a respected weed guy who had set up shop out of the trailer he'd grown up in there, and who was known for having the kindest nugs outside of Jamaica. Billy liked him a lot, when he wasn't wheeling, dealing, or bullshitting. He admired him, in a way; he did his own thing, and had set himself and his younger sister up very nicely all on his own. Baggy always talked about getting into crystal meth instead, but he had a good thing going with weed. It wasn't the shit stuff Mickey had made Billy and Bodie sell - Baggy had a reputation. Maybe they could work together, Baggy always said, but Billy knew Mickey wouldn't have it. Instead, he tried to trade bags of nug for crystal, which they'd wind up smoking themselves. It was bad business. But if they could work together - and Billy thought they could - things could change.

Bodie knocked on the door of number nineteen. After a few minutes, a guy they knew as Spink opened the door.

"The gruesome twosome, hey," Spink said. "You lookin' for nug?"

"We're lookin' for it," Bodie said, glancing at Billy.

Spink nodded, and let them in.

Baggy was sitting on a ratty couch, bent over a dirty old scale, measuring out the kind. He looked up and smiled. "Billy Darley," he said. "Haven't seen you in awhile. You still selling skunk?"

Billy shook his head. "We're doing meth now," he said.

"Nice," Baggy said. "That's nice. You're moving up in the world."

Baggy elbowed his buddy Dog next to him, who was staring intently at the TV, attached to the XBOX game he was playing. "Load 'em up a bowl, Doggie," he said.

"Let me finish this boss first," he said, not looking at Baggy. On the screen, Dog wielded a gigantic gun that spewed blue plasma that blew straight through the chest of a digital monster.

Baggy knocked the controller out of his hands. "Load 'em up a bowl," he repeated.

Dog clicked his tongue and glared at Billy and Bodie. "I don't see their hands broken," he said.

"These are our guests," Baggy said. "Don't be an asshole."

Dog sighed, and pulled a fingerful of weed from the bag on the table. He shoved it into a small metal pipe, and extended it to Billy and Bodie. Bodie took it.

"Thanks," Bodie said. Dog picked up the controller and got back to his game, without saying a word.

Bodie took a hit.

"So," Baggy said, "you guys working for Bones now?"

"We're working for Bones, yeah," Billy said. He took the bowl from Bodie. He wasn't really in the mood for smoking weed, but it was only polite.

"That's cool," Baggy said, sliding the contents of the scale cup into a plastic bag.

"Technically, we're working for Mickey," Bodie said.

"Whoo," Baggy said. "Mickey Coyle. There's a prick if I've ever seen one."

"Yeah," Billy said, exhaling. "You said it."

Baggy nodded. "How much you want?" he asked.

"A quarter'll do it," Bodie said. He looked at Billy. Billy offered the bowl to Spink, who waved it away. He handed it back to Bodie.

"Trade or cash?" Baggy asked.

"Cash," Billy said. He paused. "You know, Baggy," he said, sitting down in a vacant armchair, "you know what we talked about last time?"

Baggy shrugged. "What did we talk about last time?"

"About going into business together," Billy said.

"That, yeah," Baggy said, looking at Billy. "I'd be willing to trade an ounce for... what'd'ya think is fair?"

"We're not interested in trading," Billy said. "You know we - we run the neighborhood."

Baggy blinked at him. "And?"

"And," Billy said, "we could use guys like you."

"What's this 'we' stuff?" Spink asked, crossing his arms. "You're under Mickey, yeah?"

"Not for long," Bodie said.

Spink and Baggy looked at each other. Dog looked at the TV.

"It's true, then?" Spink said. "Mickey's going down?"

"Mickey's got nothing," Billy said. "Mickey's got no loyalty any more."

Baggy sniffed. "Doesn't sound like a club I want to belong to, Billy," he said. "Without loyalty -"

"They're loyal to me," Billy said.

"Shit," Baggy said, standing up. "I know all those guys, and if I know one thing about them, it's that they follow Mickey. This is like you said, Spink. They're done. MS-13 -"

"Fuck MS-13," Billy said, standing and meeting Baggy at eye level. "They got nothin' on us."

"Fucking war, man," Dog said, still staring at his game on the set.

The room went silent.

Finally, Baggy spoke. "We got a good thing going here," he said. "I don't want to work for Mickey Coyle. I'd work for you, you know we're -"

"You_ will_," Billy said.

"Billy, you're not going to take down Mickey," Baggy said. "Not now. You're not. I mean, I got your back, man, but I'm not trying to get killed."

Billy looked from Baggy to Spink, who was shaking his head.

"Yeah, Billy," Spink said, "we ain't trying to get killed."


	9. Broad Daylight

When Heco wasn't getting high or hanging with the boys, he was working at his uncle's Pizzeria, a tiny hole in the wall called Rafael's. It passed the time, and put a few dollars in his pocket. Billy knew Heco wasn't cut out to be a working stiff, though. He'd been trying to get into the game for a long time. As long as Billy had.

Billy was disappointed that things hadn't gone as well as planned with Baggy and the boys, but he didn't let it show. Being stoned as shit helped.

"We're fucked, that they said no," Bodie said, as they made their way up 81st.

"They didn't say no," Billy said. "You heard Baggy, he's got my back."

Bodie shook his head. Billy was fooling himself, he thought, but he didn't say anything.

They walked into Rafael's, and shouted out to Heco behind the counter.

"Look at this guy," Billy said, smiling. "You'd think he was respectable or something."

"How you doin'?" Heco said. "Trying to scam some free food?"

"You know I don't eat Mexican pizza, brother."

Heco grabbed a couple of slices and slid them into the oven in one move. "Salvadoran, motherfucker," he said. "How many times do I have to tell you?"

Billy leaned on the counter. "So, Heco," he said, lowering his voice. "You ready to blow this taco stand?"

Heco faced him. "You know I am," he said.

"I'm talking for real, man," Billy said.

"Absolutely. I told you I was. I thought you was blowin' me off."

Billy shook his head. "We got plans. You're gonna be a top guy."

Heco looked suspicious. "Right off?"

"Not right off, but -"

He was cut off by a young thing behind Heco, headphones on her ears, singing an old disco tune at the top of her lungs. Maritza.

"Billy!" she screeched. "Dance with me!" She over-emoted to the song they couldn't hear: "_'a-whoooaaah... on the radio!'_"

"Will you shut the fuck up, girl?" Heco shouted.

She stopped, and pulled the earphones off of her ears, clicking her tongue. "I dunno who you think you talkin' to," she swaggered. "Cause you didn't just tell me to shut up. I know that, _pendejo_." She walked over to Billy, pushing her sprayed hair out of her face.

"Hi, Ritzy," he said, nodding.

"You look like shit, Billy, what happened?" She didn't wait for an answer. "I don't mind. I seen you by the chop shop the other day, you were like 'lalala..'" She made an oblivious face and laughed.

Billy and Bodie exchanged looks.

"You need to dance wit me, always looking so serious," she said, swaying her hips and touching him on the chest. He smiled at her, all focus lost, for a moment.

An older man came out from the back. It was Rafael, and he wasn't having any of this.

"Outta my store, you fucking guys," he said, in broken English.

"We're paying customers," Billy said.

"You fucking do drug dealings in my store, I get the cops, right now," Rafael said.

"We were just -"

Rafael pointed a finger at Billy. "No, I know you. Bones Darley, Billy Darley - no good!"

Heco looked at Rafael. "What'd they do?"

They started arguing in Spanish. Billy glanced at Bodie and shook his head.

"Then you go, too, Heco," Rafael said, breaking into English again. "You go!"

Heco pulled the apron over his head and threw it on the counter.

They left, the three of them, Ritzy's shrill voice hollering at Rafael the whole time.

"Don't worry about it," Billy said, squeezing Heco's shoulder. "I'll buy you a beer. We got you."

"Yeah," Heco said, lighting a cigarette. "I couldn't stand one more second around that bitch anyway." He took a drag. "I'm serious, I would have killed her."

Billy shrugged. "She's not a bad lay, though."

"Yeah," Heco said, "but she ain't _that_ good."

Bodie shook his head. "She's a six, maybe."

Billy laughed. "Please."

"I wouldn't even give her that," Heco said.

"Look," Billy said, "going by sex alone, she's at least an 8. You know it."

"You're crazy," Bodie said.

"No, she is," Billy said. "But the fact that she keeps flapping her fucking yap the whole time -"

Heco doubled over laughing.

" - the fact that she can't shut up for... well, in your case, Bodie, thirty seconds... that is like a negative two."

Bodie laughed along, unmoved by the jab. "Man, what the fuck is _up_ with that?"

Heco wiped his eyes.

"But you know what?" Billy said. "The fact that she don't expect you to call her, she don't expect nothing, that's a -"

"_Ten_," they said at the same time. They laughed, slapping hands, as the roar of motorcycle engines got louder, then turned to watch nine, ten, eleven, bikes roar past, in full Low Riders colors.

"Better get off the streets, boys!" a skinny, gruff biker hollered. He pulled up and dropped a leather-clad foot on the curb. "Jackal and 'dem just took out some of your boys in broad daylight." He pushed off. "One of ours, too..."

Billy stood, frozen, not sure he'd heard what he thought he had. "Took out... who?" he said aloud, and turned to Bodie and Heco.

"_Took out who_?"


	10. Brothers

Heco drove like a madman towards the lab.

"Maybe we shouldn't be going there," Bodie suggested from the back seat. "There might be cops..."

"There's no sirens," Billy said.

As they turned the corner, they saw it. The lab was surrounded by police cars and ambulances, strobe flashers lighting up the street like the 4th of July. Billy looked at Bodie, then at Heco.

"Turn back," Billy said.

Heco slowed, but didn't stop. "No, that'll look too obvious," he said.

"They ain't looking for us," Billy said.

"They're looking for _everyone_," Bodie said. He put a hand on Heco's shoulder. "Go back."

Heco stopped, and put the car in reverse.

"This is gonna be a fucking chase," Bodie said, his head down.

Heco eyed the rear view mirror and drove steadily away. "We're just a nice family from Bennington who took a wrong turn," he said. Heco had commandeered Maritza's car, a Neon. It didn't say "family from Bennington," but it didn't say "gangbangers" either. The cops didn't seem to take notice as they drove away.

"Where we goin'?" Heco asked, looking at Billy.

"I saw body bags," Bodie said.

"Shut up, Bodie, you didn't see anything," Billy said. He turned to Heco. "The chop shop," he said. "My dad will know what to do."

"You think the chop shop isn't surrounded by cops, too?" Heco asked.

"I don't _know_," Billy said. He paused for a moment. "Angela's," he said, finally.

"Angela?"

"Mickey's ma," Billy said.

"I don't know, Billy - "

"Seven Twenty-two Green Street," Billy said. He pointed "Turn up at that light. We gotta go somewhere."

--

There were no cops outside Angela Coyle's house. Not yet, anyway. As soon as Billy got out of the car, Mickey ran out of the house. Billy was stunned by his own relief. They hadn't gotten Mickey.

"Billy," Mickey said, grabbing him by the arms until it hurt. His eyes were red. He clasped his hand onto the back of Billy's head drew his face close, looking into his eyes. "Billy," he repeated.

"What happened?"

"Fuckin' Jackal's boys," Mickey said. MS-13. "They fuckin'..." His gaze averted to nothingness, as if he was watching the scene behind Billy. "They just walked in, Billy... they just walked in and open fired..."

"You were there?"

Mickey shook his head. "No. They probably wanted me to be. No, but Jamie, Jamie got hit. He made it, Bones's got him upstairs. Tommy made it..."

"What about the others?"

Mickey shook his head. "And some fucking biker was making a drop - Ronnie."

Billy's mind flashed back to Marceno, that night. _Ronnie's got a thing with his kid..._

Billy jerked away, and started heading for the door. Mickey grabbed him again.

"That's good, though," Bodie reasoned, from behind Mickey. "They fucked with the Low Riders, they're on our side... we saw them -"

"We don't need the fucking Low Riders," Mickey barked. He looked into Billy's face again. "We're gonna get them, brother," he said, in a low voice. "You and me. You wanna show me how badass you are?"

Billy nodded at Mickey, his bitterest rival, or so he'd thought. "I'm with you," he said. "Whatever you want me to do."


	11. Jesus Rides A Harley

Mickey drove with a sense of purpose, his eyes fixed straight ahead. It was just him and Billy, and they were going to finish this.

Billy sat quietly in the passenger seat, watching Mickey. He was a broken man. _This was what it took to break Mickey_, he thought.

_This is insanity._

Billy was afraid to speak. Never in his life had he been afraid to say anything to Mickey. Mickey had never been on his side as much as he was at that moment, not even when they were kids, but he still had no words for him. He had no idea where they were going. It was getting dark.

Mickey stopped the car, finally, in an alley near the outskirts. As the engine rumbled off, he looked down. Billy realized he was crying. He wasn't sure he'd ever stopped.

"They were good... good guys," Billy said.

"You didn't know them," Mickey said quietly.

Billy sniffed, and shook his head. "I knew then the same as you."

"No," Mickey said. He looked at Billy. "You didn't. They were _my_ boys. They were my brothers. If Bodie had been there, you'd know how I feel."

"If Bodie was there - " Billy stopped. _If Bodie had been there I'd've been there too. I wouldn't let him go down without me_. He shifted in his seat.

"What?"

Billy shook his head. "Nothing." He took a drag of his cigarette. "So what's the plan?"

Mickey stared at Billy for a moment, and reached back behind the seat. He pulled out a black case, and set it on Billy's lap.

"Open it," Mickey said.

Billy popped open the latches and lifted the top.

_Holy Shit._

"This is an M-4," Billy said, touching the machine gun. He looked at Mickey. "Where did you get it?"

Mickey hesitated, and almost smiled. "I have an uncle in the business," he said.

"Oh," Billy said, pausing. "I didn't know he had these."

"Why would you?"

Billy felt his glare harden at Mickey, then pulled back. This was not the time.

"Jackal lives on South Oak," Mickey said. "Middle of the block."

Billy nodded slowly. "A drive by."

It wasn't a question.

"And you, little bro, will be my shooter."

Billy's nod quickened. "Yeah." He thought for a moment. "Do you think his family will be there?"

"I fuckin' hope so," Mickey said. He started the car.

"Load it up."

--

It hadn't taken long for Billy to get a feel for the gun. Guns were second nature to him. As the got closer to Jackal's block, Mickey laid it out:

"We can only do one pass. Just one. We can't turn around and go back. No dry run. I know which house it is, when I say go, you go."

Billy felt his adrenaline rising. "Right."

"Got it?"

"Got it."

Mickey accelerated, eyes on Billy. "You ready?"

Billy positioned himself, but didn't let the barrel go out the window.

"Ready."

As they crossed the intersection, Billy felt like he was going to explode. It seemed like forever until Mickey shouted for him to go. In a flash, the gun was pounding him, bullets spraying the house, glass shattering. It was over in seconds. The gun burned. He wanted to do it again.

Mickey was grabbing his arm. He turned. Mickey was yelling something at him, but he couldn't hear it over the ringing in his ears. Everything seemed to go in slow motion.

"It's done," Billy yelled, his own voice sounding thick and labored in his ears.

Mickey was driving faster now. Too fast. Billy looked out the rear window. Nobody was following them, not yet, but at this speed...

He looked at Mickey and it hit him.

_We're dead._

Mickey didn't care about living now. He didn't care about getting caught. And he was taking Billy with him.

Billy gripped the dashboard at watched the streets come at them at 100 miles an hour. At least. They were heading for the open road. Billy stopped breathing. The truth was, it felt great, this death ride. He tried to absorb it. It would all be over soon.

As they barreled down the road, Mickey started to scream. Billy wanted to close his eyes, but they were transfixed.

_Just do it_, Billy thought. _Do it before the cops get us._

Mickey turned the wheel to the left, then jerked it sharply to the right. They sped straight off the road. For a moment – what seemed like a very long moment - the car was airborne as it jumped the embankment. Everything went silent.

Then everything went to chaos. The car must have flipped twenty times, glass and bullet shells flying. Blood flying.

When it went silent again, Billy opened his eyes. He didn't feel anything. He didn't see anything. Death was dark, he thought.

Then he saw a light. One light, with a roaring engine.

_Jesus rides a Harley_, Billy thought, before losing all consciousness.


	12. Respect

_Come on, kid, get up, now._

_This is gonna hurt come tomorrow, but you'll thank me._

_--_

Marceno motioned to Bodie and Heco. "You two can come in," he said. He led him down the musty stairs below a boarded-up building.

"Is he real bad?" Bodie asked. "Is he fucked -"

"I seen worse," Marceno said. "Mickey," he said, "he was a hell of a lot worse."

"Yeah, but Mickey's dead," Heco said.

Marceno shrugged. "We got him with Bannon. He's the best." He opened the door at the bottom of the stairs, where a man with leathery skin and slicked back hair was working on Billy, a cigar dangling from his lips. Billy was unconscious and looked like hell.

"Jesus," Bodie said. "Is he dying?"

Bannon looked up. "Looks worse than he is," he said. "I had to knock him out."

"He was awake?" Bodie asked.

"Yeah he was awake."

"What'd he say?"

"What?" Bannon sniffed. "I don't fuckin' know."

Bodie looked at Heco. "I don't know, man, I think we should take him to a hospital."

"Naw," Heco said. "They'll put him right to jail."

Marceno nodded. "That's right."

"He'll kill us."

Bodie shook his head.

"Listen to Heco," Marceno said. "This _is_ a hospital. Bannon is the best. Used to be a medic in the jungle."

Heco lit a cigarette and looked at Marceno. "Vietnam?" he asked.

"Nicaragua." Bannon said, without looking up.

"Aw, he ain't a medic," Bodie said, "he's a mercenary."

The two bikers bristled. "You got a problem with mercenaries, street trash?" Merceno said, leaning towards him. "You show some respect. Bannon is a medic. Professionally trained. You think those rich hospital surgeons would last five seconds out there in the mud, without their fancy equipment, under fire from the fucking Sandinistas day and night? Show some respect."

"But it ain't like he was shot – how many car wrecks did you see in the jungle?"

Bannon exhaled smoke away from Billy. "You'd be surprised."

Bodie crossed his arms, and looked at Billy. He would have to trust these guys. Bones said he was done fixing Billy up, and he was busy with Jamie and Tommy's injuries. There were four guys to bury – no, five, with Mickey, and a couple of them had no family other than the boys. It occurred to him that it was his job to see that everything was taken care of. It was his job to make sure everything was right when Billy woke up, and was king.

-

-

-END-


End file.
